Chapter 54

The first rays of morning light crept across the room, brushing over the curtains and casting a warm, muted glow across the space. I moved quietly, careful not to disturb the stillness of our quarters as I arranged the last of the breakfast on the small table in the kitchenette. The pastries were warm, the eggs perfectly cooked, and the tea steeped just right. It was simple, but it was hers, ours, something that made this space feel like a home amidst the chaos outside.

I glanced back toward the nest, where Mara lay cocooned in the soft blankets and pillows, her hair splayed across the sheets like dark silk. My chest tightened at the sight, a mix of protectiveness and something deeper, something that clenched around my heart and refused to let go. She deserved mornings like this—quiet, safe, surrounded by comfort. And if I had anything to do with it, she’d have them, always.

Stepping lightly, I crossed back to the nest, leaning over her as she shifted in her sleep. The faintest smile curved her lips, and for a moment, I just watched, taking in the rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers curled into the blanket. She was so strong, so fierce in everything she did, and yet here, like this, she was unguarded. My Omega.

Unable to resist, I let my fingers brush gently along her jawline, trailing down to the soft hollow of her neck. Her skin was warm, and the scent of vanilla and lily of the valley wrapped around me, intoxicating and familiar. My body responded instantly, a low purr vibrating in my chest. She stirred, a soft, sleepy sound escaping her lips, and I pressed a kiss against her collarbone, savoring the way her body leaned into the touch.

“Mmm, Silas,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep, and I felt a surge of satisfaction at the way she said my name, like a whispered secret just for me. Before she could fully wake, I slid lower, spreading her thighs gently, reverently, and dipped my head between them.

The first taste of her made my eyes flutter shut, her slick sweet and heady, driving every rational thought from my mind. I moved slowly, savoring her, drawing out each sound she made as I teased and coaxed her body to life. Her fingers tangled in my hair, a gasp tearing from her throat as she woke in the middle of the first wave, her hips pressing up to meet me.

“Good morning,” I murmured against her, letting the vibration of my voice carry through her, drawing another shiver from her. She half-laughed, half-moaned, her body arching as I resumed my attention, unhurried but relentless. Each flick of my tongue, each gentle nip, was a silent promise—my devotion laid bare.

The first orgasm left her breathless, a soft cry muffled by the pillows, but I wasn’t done. Not until she knew, in every part of her being, that she was cherished, adored. I kept going, slow and deliberate, drawing her over the edge a second, then a third time until she was trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and her body limp with satisfaction.

I pulled back, wiping my mouth and looking up at her with a grin. Her eyes were wide, dazed, a blush coloring her cheeks as she met my gaze. The sight made my heart clench, and I leaned over her, brushing a kiss against her swollen lips. “Good morning,” I repeated, smirking as she tried to catch her breath, her hand coming up to rest against my chest, fingers splaying over the rapid beat of my heart.

“You—” she started, laughing softly, “you’re impossible.”

“Only for you,” I replied, the words slipping out easily, truth ringing in every syllable. I helped her sit up, wrapping her in a throw as I guided her out of the nest and into the kitchen. The breakfast waited on the table, still steaming thanks to the stasis charm I’d woven over it. I watched as her eyes lit up, that small, soft smile breaking over her face, and it was worth every second of planning.

She sat down, and I took the seat across from her, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The room was quiet, just the two of us, and the warmth of the moment settled around us like a blanket. Her hand found mine, fingers lacing together as we ate in comfortable silence, sharing glances and touches that spoke of a love that went unspoken but understood.

I watched her as she took a bite of breakfast, her eyes closing for a moment in bliss as she savored the taste. The warm light from the small kitchenette played over her features, softening the sharp lines of tension that had been there too often lately. This was a rare moment, a reprieve from everything pressing at the edges of our world.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table as I took in the sight of her. “You’re actually enjoying it,” I teased, a smile tugging at my lips.

Mara opened her eyes, a playful smirk crossing her face. “Who knew you could cook this well?” she countered, the warmth in her voice making something in my chest tighten. The smile she gave me wasn’t just for the food; it was for the effort, the care behind it. And that was everything.

Breakfast continued with light conversation, the moments stretching out in a way that felt almost normal, almost easy. But even as we laughed and talked, I couldn’t help but notice the way her gaze would drift, the way her fingers traced absent patterns on the table. The mark. The secret that hung between us like a storm cloud, waiting to break.

As she finished the last of her meal, I reached out, catching her hand. The touch was gentle, grounding, and I felt her shift her attention back to me. Her eyes met mine, searching, wary but open in that way she allowed only when we were alone.

“Thank you for this,” she said, her voice softer, more vulnerable than before. “I needed it.”

“Always,” I replied, holding her gaze. The quiet settled between us again, but this time it was heavy, charged. My thumb moved over her knuckles, and I couldn’t help but glance down at the edge of her glove, the dark lines peeking out like a forbidden secret.

“Mara…” I started, hesitating as I weighed my words. “I’ve been patient. I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready, but… is there anything I can do to help?”

She looked down at our joined hands, the faintest trace of a smile crossing her lips before it faded. “I wish there was,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with something I couldn’t quite name. “But this… it’s not something anyone can fix. Not even you.”

Her words were a sharp pang, a reminder of how much she carried alone. But she was wrong about one thing—I might not be able to fix it, but I’d be damned if I didn’t try to stand by her through it.

“Then I’ll just be here,” I said, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, right where the dark mark lingered beneath fabric. “For when you need me.”

Mara’s eyes locked onto mine, a storm of emotions swirling within their depths. She nodded, the tension easing ever so slightly, and I felt her lean into my touch, her head resting against my arm as she let out a breath she’d been holding.

“I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, the words so quiet I almost missed them.

“You deserve more than you know,” I countered, tilting her chin up so she’d look at me. The shadows in her eyes were still there, but so was the flicker of hope, fragile but present.

Before I could say more, she shifted, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that spoke of gratitude, of desperation, and something deeper that neither of us dared to name. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, feeling the tension melt away between us, even if only for this moment.

When we parted, her smile was small but genuine, and I felt the shift in the air, like something had settled, even if just for now.

“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” she said, and I nodded, knowing I’d do anything for her.